(I’m a manager at a membership-based wholesale club. I get called to the customer service desk to handle a complaint and the second I see the customer I know that it’s one of our notorious nutjobs.)

Customer: “I got removed from the account and now they say I can’t shop. I’ve been a customer for twenty years!”

(I look it up; she’s been here for five.)

Me: “Well, I can see that it was a glitch in our system that caused your membership to be inactive. I’ll fix it now.”

Customer: “Oh, thank you. The girl who sent you over was so rude!”

(The employee she was talking about is an immigrant from Iraq. She speaks English beautifully but comes off as abrupt because she speaks more properly than most and emphasizes certain words.)

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but she is just trying to convey the same thing I’m telling you but in a much more proper manner. But everything with your account is all set.”

Customer: “You are amazing, unlike her. Give me your hands.”

(She then grabs my hands and leans in.)

Me: “I’m sorry, do you need something else?”

Customer: “I was going to kiss you.”

Me: “Please don’t.”

(My grandmother lives with my family for a time after her husband passes. During this time, I graduate high school and start college. She has an uncanny ability to want something from me when I am studying and only while I am studying.)

Grandmother: “[My Name], you are always on that computer! Get off that computer and come help with dishes.” 

(I close the three textbooks I have in front of me and save the work on my computer. I load the dishwasher, get it started, and try to get back my train of thought.) 

Grandmother: “Good. Don’t you feel good contributing to the house instead of being shut up in your room on that computer all day? And you can’t get behind in your lessons, either! Your parents aren’t paying for your schooling just so you can play games on that computer.” 

Me: “First of all, Gramma: my parents aren’t paying for anything. I have a full scholarship that pays for my school. Second: my major is computer science. That implies that I will be on a computer to do my assignments. In fact, when you interrupted me, I was writing a program for a class assignment that’s due next week. And I’d like to get back to it, if you don’t mind.” 

(I start putting a sign on my door when I am studying, asking to be left alone. I even try to post a study schedule as a compromise. But my grandmother loudly states every time she sees the sign:)

Grandmother: “Well, [My Name] is studying, I guess! Too bad her family’s out here. I’m sure they’d like her to join them, but I guess that computer’s too important! That scholarship is more important than having a meal with her family! But I shouldn’t interrupt her studying when I know she’s on that computer, anyway!”

(I didn’t neglect housework. I always had at least one night class, so it was easier to stay on campus and get dinner there. And I paid for almost everything out of my scholarship or tutoring jobs. Grandma just didn’t understand “computers,” so she automatically thought they were useless. She even said that “computers” weren’t a valid career path and offered to pay for “secretary school,” instead. For a family that insisted I go to college, it suddenly stopped being important when I actually got there.)

(Our customer service deals both with emails and calls, and you are either scheduled on email or call. You are not supposed to do the other when scheduled for one.)

Caller: “I want to know when I will get my money!”

Me: “All right, let’s pull up your file. I don’t see any money ready to be transferred; what is this about?”

Caller: “I was asked to sign a slip and then I would get money because of [case].”

Me: “Ah, I understand. But I don’t see the slip in your file. When did you send it?”

Caller: “I already sent it!”

Me: “But when?”

Caller: “I already sent it; why is it not in my file?!”

Me: “Maybe you can resend it and I can see if the email arrives this time?” *which I am not supposed to do, but hey, service and all*

Caller: “But I already send it two minutes ago!”

Me: “Two minutes ago? You send the first email two minutes ago?”

(And look what just popped up in our mailbox!)

Me: “I got your slip, miss. I will put it through to our financial department for you.”

Caller: “Good. So, when will I get my money?”

(I’m attending a crash course along with twenty other people. The lecturer starts off by asking each of us to tell others a bit about ourselves. The course is in Latvian, the only official language of Latvia, but about a third of attendees are of Russian-speaking minority. This minority is infamous for expecting to be able to converse in Russian everywhere, although these particular people, obviously, must understand Latvian language well enough. Still…)

Lecturer: “I think we’ll allow everyone to introduce themselves in their native language; does everyone agree?”

(People nod and make agreeing noises, but I prick up my ears. When my turn comes, several minutes after the previous non-Latvian speaker…)

Me: “May I speak in my native language, too?”

Everybody: *nodding toward me in a friendly way* “Yes, of course!”

Me: “But… do you all understand Estonian, then?”

Everybody: “Hahaha, no! You will need to translate your introduction for us afterward.”

(So much for equality.)

(I work at a diner. During the Saturday lunch rush, a customer in her 60s is wheeled in with her friend, though by her behaviour she acts more like a six-year-old. Right off the bat, I know she’s going to be trouble when I try to introduce myself and she just cuts me off by demanding coffee. The real trouble starts after I bring her meal. The second she sees her toast, she flips. She throws a tantrum about it being too toasted, so I assure her I’ll bring it back to the kitchen. Then, she throws a tantrum about it being too light, so I take it back again. Then, she complains about her meal getting cold because of all this, how this is the worst meal of her entire life, and how she’s never coming back here ever again. By the time she pays, I’m so sick of this woman, but I still try to be friendly.)

Me: “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

Customer: “I will.” *shoots me a smug look like she’s going to one-up me* “Once I’m out of here!”

Me: *with my best customer service smile on my face* “Me, too, ma’am. Me, too!”